


Careful, Daddy's Watching

by chemicalburnfromthespiralperm



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Voyeurism, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 10:56:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicalburnfromthespiralperm/pseuds/chemicalburnfromthespiralperm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean teases Sam in the Impala.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Careful, Daddy's Watching

It’s not immediate. No. The sensation is almost stilted, blurred just beneath the surface, the same state his brain is in—hazy, unfocused. He can’t tell if he’s dreaming or not, but then he feels friction, and it’s that moment that his body has decided to react and he can feel the heat pooling in his cock. 

The next moment his eyes are opening.

“Shh.”

Dean grips him—tight and languid—and Sam throws his head back in a moan but the next second Dean’s hand is over his mouth now. “I said shut up, Sam!”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Sam says, pushing Dean’s hand away. They’re still moving, still in the Impala on their way to God knows where. He see’s John’s truck on the stretch of highway ahead of them. It’s 4am and the sun is just peering through the clouds.

Sam’s whole body is itching now.

“If you don’t sit there and act like nothing is wrong, dad’s gonna see. He’s gonna see your come face in that rearview mirror and know somethin’s up. You don’t want that, do ya, Sammy?” Dean’s hand finds home again on Sam’s cock and he’s squeezing it, working it with a diligent hand as he also tries to keep his eyes on the road. How long has Dean been thinking about this? How long has Dean been sitting here thinking about jerking him off? How long has he been asleep?

Dean slides his finger over the tip of his leaking cock and Sam’s whole body starts to shake. He’s so desperately trying to stay still, to remain calm, but Dean’s hands on him always manage to reduce him to nothing but energy. The warm caress of Dean’s soft hands—calloused in just the right places—make wet, white heat embrace his spine, and he arches his back to meet the thrust of Dean’s hand. 

“God, Sam, you’re so fucking hard and hot. Dad keeps lookin’ back at us every few minutes. Do you think he knows? Do you think he can see how much I want your cock in my mouth?”

Sam throws his head back and moans, trying desperately to grit his teeth but Dean just feels so fucking good that any attempts of remaining calm or rational are futile.

“Mm, just like that, Sammy. You gonna come? Come for me, Sam.”

Dean’s hand is moving too fast now. Sam can’t stand it. There’s pressure building, mounting, ricocheting off of every fiber of his being until it’s too much for him to handle and the only thing he can think of to release it is to come, and he does, all over Dean’s hand, arching his back, moaning loudly, gritting his teeth, his body jerking as Dean squeezes and pumps every last bit of Sam out.

Sam collapses into the seat. He’s sated, spent, his mind is reeling, his vision is hazy and when his eyesight finally clears he’s looking over at Dean who’s licking _every. single. drop_ of Sam’s come off of his deliciously lithe fingers.

“Good morning, Sammy.” Dean smirks, and Sam moans again, watching his brother draw the fingers in and out of his mouth. “By the way, dad’s been driving behind us this whole time.”

Sam looks up quickly, and there isn’t a car in sight in front of them on the open road. Just trees and dirt and asphalt, and sure enough the midnight black of John Winchester’s truck is following them about 50 feet back. He couldn’t see into the car if he wanted.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Dean smirks. “You got off on it, pervert.”


End file.
